


Kill of the Night

by Archetype_ElectraHeart



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Thieves, F/M, Gratuitous Smut, kind of a spy-verse?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-04
Updated: 2014-10-04
Packaged: 2018-02-19 19:08:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2399558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archetype_ElectraHeart/pseuds/Archetype_ElectraHeart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Guys, we have a slight problem.”</p><p>She heard Catelyn’s voice come through her ear wig. <em>What is it?</em></p><p>“Looks like I’m not the only one crashing this party. Jaime Lannister’s here.”</p><p>She heard a chorus of swearing and could picture the frantic movements of the rest of the team in the van down the street.<br/> <br/><em>Has he spotted you yet?</em></p><p>“Not yet. I think the brown wig is helping. But it’s only a matter of time.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kill of the Night

**Author's Note:**

> [Title from Kill of the Night by Gin Wigmore]
> 
> The AU posts from the other day got me thinking--so, thanks to godofmischief, virgin-who-cannot-drive, and sapphires-and-silver on tumblr. Pretty sure this is not what any of you had in mind, but my mind works in mysterious and illogical ways.
> 
> Enjoy!

Brienne swore under her breath when she spotted him across the room. The same arrogant grin, the same golden hair and skin. 

She held her champagne flute up to her mouth to disguise the movement of her lips. “Guys, we have a slight problem.”

She heard Catelyn’s voice come through her ear wig. _What is it?_

“Looks like I’m not the only one crashing this party. Jaime Lannister’s here.”

She heard a chorus of swearing and could picture the frantic movements of the rest of the team in the van down the street.

_Has he spotted you yet?_

“Not yet. I think the brown wig is helping. But it’s only a matter of time.”

She slowly moved out of his eye-line and towards the hallway leading to the study.

“Cat, if I don’t move now we probably won’t get another chance before the transfer. What’s the call?”

Sansa's voice piped through, her voice faint. _Mom, we promised Asha we would do this._

She heard Catelyn Stark sigh. _Go, Brienne. It’s time._

 

She dropped her champagne flute on a sideboard on her way out of the room, purposeful but calm, careful not to draw attention to herself as she wandered away from the rest of the party. 

_It’s the third door on your left._

“Pod, did you manage to hack the security feeds yet?”

_Almost there. I need at least another two minutes to complete the sync._

Damn Lannister. Normally she would have had the luxury of waiting until Pod had eyes on the inside and it had been a long time since she had been forced to fly blind.

She slipped into the room, closing the door behind her, and headed for the wall behind the desk, tapping around until she found the catch to release the panel hiding the safe. She pulled out the gadget Pod had handed her earlier in the evening and attached it to the door, just to the right of the keypad. She pressed the button at the bottom to start whatever magical process it did to crack the safe (she tried not to ask anymore) and waited.

 

Only the door opened behind her before ten seconds had passed. She whirled around to find none other than Jaime Lannister, smirking as he leaned against the door.

“Brienne. Always good to see you.”

“Wish I could say the same, Lannister.”

He prowled towards her, eying her face. “I must say, I definitely prefer you as a blonde. Please, tell me that’s a wig.”

She swatted his hands away from her face. “Of course it’s a wig. What the hell are you doing here?”

He nodded towards the safe behind her. “Same thing as you, I expect.”

She nearly snorted. “Oh, I highly doubt that.” 

There was no way in the seven hells that Jaime Lannister was in this room attempting to steal a worthless forgery to keep Balon Greyjoy out of jail for the last few years of his miserable life.

There was a definite possibility that he was here to steal what he thought was a real Ashara Dayne self portrait, though. 

“And besides, you’re not even a thief. Who was dumb enough to send you in here alone?”

He grimaced. “Hear that, Tyrion? Even the wench knows better than to send a con in to steal something.”

“Cat. Should I tell him?”

_There’s no quicker way to get him to leave you alone. But there’s also no guarantee that he’ll believe you._

“Tell me what?”

_I’m on the video feeds now. You’re all clear._

“You’re here for the Dayne portrait, right? Before it goes into the museum next week?”

“Obviously.”

She really wanted to smack that smug smirk off his face. “Well, I hate to ruin your little fantasy, but it’s not real.”

His face went very still. “What?”

“It’s a forgery.”

His eyes narrowed. “If it’s a forgery then why are you here to steal it?”

“Because the forger’s daughter is a friend of ours. Once the museum starts running tests on this puppy, there’s a good chance he’s going to get pinched. The man is dying—he has cancer.” She shrugged. “We’re just trying to make sure she gets her last few years with her dad.”

She heard the tell-tale beep and click behind her that meant the safe was open, but didn’t move, waiting to see Jaime’s reaction. He gestured towards the safe. “It’s all yours then.”

“You believe me?”

“You may be a thief, Brienne, but you’re not a liar.”

She stayed frozen for a moment in surprise. Jaime suddenly flinched and pulled out his ear wig. She imagined Tyrion was yelling at him.

_Um. Is anyone else surprised that he just accepted that without argument?_

_I know, Pod. Brienne, is he in love with you or something?_

“Don’t be an idiot, Sansa.”

_I bet he’s staring at her ass right now._

Brienne growled in annoyance and refused to turn around and check, focusing on opening the safe and pulling out the small paper-wrapped canvas. “Shut up, Margaery.”

 

_Brienne, you have one security guy coming down the hall._

“Shit. Jaime, we have company coming.”

She closed the safe and replaced the wall panel before quickly slicing the canvas away from the support and rolling it up.

“Where did you even pull that knife from?”

She huffed as she tucked both the knife and the canvas into the holster on her upper thigh. “Wouldn’t you like to know. Pod, how long?”

_He isn’t going very fast, but no more than 90 seconds._

She looked at Jaime. “90 seconds.”

He nodded, bit his lip. “We’ll just have to pull a 007.”

She shook her head. “No way.”

“Brienne, it’s the only thing that we have time for.” He crossed the space between them, put one hand on her waist and leaned in, running his mouth down the side of her neck. “Just try to make it convincing, alright, wench?”

 

She was incredibly annoyed. First of all, she hated the 007. It was so _cliche_. 

Second of all, he insisted on calling her ‘wench’, which was just ridiculous. 

But mostly because this was a weak 007 and she was not about to let pretty boy Jaime Lannister ruin this op when she was so close to getting out. 

 

She pushed him off. “That’s your set up for a 007? I thought you were one of the best cons in the business! I have pulled more convincing 007s with Margaery, for gods’ sakes.”

She saw his pupils dilate. “You and…Margaery?”

_That’s my baby out there! I taught her everything she knows. Don’t forget about the tie. Men always forget about the tie._

She ignored Marge’s voice and pulled Jaime towards the desk, sweeping a section of it clean with a careless swipe of her arm. She pulled Jaime’s tie askew, ran a quick hand through his hair and popped a few buttons on his shirt for effect before sitting on the desk and pulling his body in between her legs.

_Ten seconds._

“Do _try_ to make it convincing, Lannister. If you blow this, I’ll kill you myself. 7 seconds.”

He ran a hand up her leg and leaned over her. “My name is Jaime.”

And then his lips were on hers, hard and bruising and hungry, enough to make her dizzy. _Five seconds._ She wrapped her legs around his waist, ignoring the way her skirt rode up, and sighed into his mouth as he palmed one small breast through the thin fabric of her dress.

 

“Say my name.”

_Two, one._

_“Jaime…”_

 

When the security guard came in in the midst of her breathlessly sighing his name, Jaime had one hand on her thigh and the other on her breast, his tongue laving across her collarbones.

They both whipped their heads around, feigning surprise at the intruder’s sudden appearance. Jaime stepped back slightly and set about quickly covering her legs and shielding her from the other man’s eyes. He played possessive well, she noticed.

“Sorry, folks, but the party’s out there.”

Jaime flashed a rueful grin, all easy charm. “Sorry. Newlyweds, you know. I can’t seem to get enough of her.” He twined the fingers of one hand with hers and Brienne prayed that the security guard wouldn’t notice that neither of them were wearing rings. 

At least her blush was in character for once.

The security guard sighed and glanced around. “You have 10 minutes before I come drag you out of here, understand?”

“Of course, thank you.” Jaime’s voice was like honey. Why had she never noticed how nice his voice was before?

“Yeah. Congratulations.” The door closed, the guard started down the hall.

 

Brienne let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Rather than move away, Jaime stepped further into the cradle of her thighs and brushed his lips against her ear. 

“I’m definitely going to need longer than 10 minutes. But I would really like to finish this. In my bed. For real.” She felt his hand run up the inside of her leg and slip something into her thigh holster. “That’s where you can find me later.”

 

_What’s happening? Oh my god, I can’t hear him. BRIENNE._

_Shut up, Marge. We’ll never hear anything with you shrieking._

She pulled out her ear wig in annoyance and met his gaze. She wasn’t really sure what to say to that—me too? sounds great? are you sure?—so she pulled him in for one last kiss, straightened out his tie, and combed his hair back into some semblance of order. 

“Sorry about your shirt.” She tried to at least cover the open portion with his tie. “I’ll be sure to make it up to you.”

“I look forward to it.”

 

 

 

 

A few hours later, after Brienne had debriefed Asha with the team and showered and changed into normal street clothes, she eyed the handwritten business card that Jaime had slipped into her thigh holster earlier that evening, when he had issued that invitation…

But it could be a trap. It could be an ambush. She and Jaime didn’t actually work together, and she _had_ ruined his job earlier that evening.

But it was a real residential address. She had checked. It did seem like the kind of place that he would live in.

And she could not stop thinking about him. Which was highly inconvenient.

She snatched the card off the bed, shrugged into her leather jacket and grabbed the keys to her motorcycle on the way out the door. There was only one way to find out.

 

 

 

His apartment was in a nice part of town, one of those historic buildings with elaborately carved exteriors and large lobby with plush carpeting. She walked directly past the front desk, blessedly unmanned at the moment, and past the bank of mailboxes and directly up to the elevators. He lived, predictably, on the top floor in a penthouse suite. She rolled her eyes. 

She had barely managed a single knock when the door swung open in front of her, only narrowly avoiding rapping him on the forehead with her knuckles.

“About time, wench.”

He pulled her in by the lapels of her jacket, pushing her back against the door to close it, greedy hands already roaming over her torso. And gods was it a wondrous feeling to be _wanted_ so badly, so desperately.

“Your building has terrible security, by the way.” 

He grinned wolfishly and pulled off her jacket. “Didn’t want to make it too hard on you.” He ran one hand up under her tank top, warmth sinking into her stomach. “Besides, I didn’t want you to have too much time for second thoughts.”

“Smart man,” she mumbled against his lips, felt his grin widen.

She took her time, unlike earlier, slowly running her hand through his thick hair and down his back, slowly teasing up the hem of his t-shirt and pulling it over his head.

He was breathing heavily when he pulled back to run his gaze down her body. “Are there are any secret hidden knives I should know about before we continue?”

“If I tell you they won’t be secret anymore.” He glared at her. “There’s one at my ankle.”

“Seriously?” She nodded. “I can’t decide whether I’m offended or really turned on that you came to my place armed.”

She shrugged. “Nothing personal. I always have one.”

He knelt in front of her. “Left or right?”

“My right. On the inside.” He slid his hands up under the hem of her pants and unbuckled the holster from around her ankle, setting it off to the side. 

 

He stood back up and put his hands on either side of her face, nipping and sucking at her mouth as he led her through the apartment towards his bedroom, backing her up all the way to the edge of the bed. 

“Too many clothes.” 

He seemingly ignored her and ran an open palm down her back, causing her to shiver as he passed over the sensitive spot underneath her left shoulder blade.

“Jaime.” 

He pulled off her tank top, raising an eyebrow when he realized she hadn’t bothered with a bra. She made quick work of his pants and boxers, pulling them all the way down and pressing a quick kiss to his thigh on her way back up to face him. His eyes were almost entirely black, the green only the tiniest ring around his blown pupils. He yanked her pants down her legs, helped her kick them away, before easing her legs apart and wrapping his arms around her thighs, setting teeth and lips and tongue to work on her cunt. When her knees started to buckle he simply tightened his grip on her legs, not missing a beat.

“Jaime…Jaime, I can’t…” 

She was trying to warn him that her legs weren’t going to hold her much longer but couldn’t quite get her brain to complete the thought when he raked his teeth across her clit. She opted for the more direct approach and grabbed him by the neck, forcefully guiding him up to her mouth, turned on by the taste of herself on his lips. She pulled him onto the bed on top of her, breath catching when his erection brushed against her, moaning when he pressed against her more insistently. 

He lowered his head to suck at one nipple, using his fingers to twist the other one, and gods it felt good but she needed him inside her _now_ and she did not have the patience to be treated like some delicate little maiden.

“Jaime, later.” He lifted a head to look at her, head tilted in question. “You can play games later. Not right now.”

He smirked, but without any malice. “You know, I never pictured you as the bossy type in bed. But I kinda like it.”

She bucked her hips up against his, causing him to moan and close his eyes. “Get on with it, Lannister.”

He loomed over, growled as he entered her, “I told you, my name is Jaime.”

“Jaime…”

It was like someone had flipped a switch, turning them both frantic and rough. She raked her nails down his back, he nipped at her neck and nibbled at her earlobe as he thrust into her. She dug her nails into his shoulders and arched her back, taut as a bow string when she came.

He came with her name on his lips, before slumping on top of her. 

 

“Maybe we should work the same job more often.”

Brienne smiled. “Only if I always win.”


End file.
